


The Holiday Switch Job

by norcumi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, GFY, Leverage AU, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Spoilers, holiday special au, plunnie for adoption, rescued from the tumblr purge, somehow also an au of The Princess Switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: The author watches The Princess Switch, crosses over with Star Wars favorites, adds Leverage-style elements and her favorite ship. Also a slight dash of crack:Satine calls in a favor from Obi-Wan and his crew, because she needs to fairy-godmother a Christmas Special. Meanwhile, Rex, Cody, and their brothers have a straightforward job involving a museum and some illegally gotten goods.This can only end in chaos.





	The Holiday Switch Job

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a Tumblr post from 11/19/2018, salvaged from when my blog got deleted (I'm now over at norcumii.tumblr.com): 
> 
> Last night I made a bit of a blunder. I wanted something short and ridiculous to watch on Netflix, and instead I ended up watching _The Princess Switch_. Now, it wasn’t spectacular, but I found it entertaining (the second-hand embarrassment wasn’t even crippling, just existent enough for regular pauses). I was however rather cheesed off that there was one character who was some kind of background helper figure, implied to be either Santa helping everyone achieve their Christmas wishes or some kind of benevolent angelic figure.
> 
> Old white dude.
> 
> Old white dudes and predestination crap pisses me off, especially when they’re not clearly coded as Santa or benevolent supernatural being. Otherwise it’s just creepy.
> 
> I was musing about that more this morning, and my brain coughed up a random comment about how the only old white dude I’d be comfortable as the mastermind behind a romance is Nate Ford -
> 
> then I flashed to [dharmaavocado](http://dharmaavocado.tumblr.com/)’s brilliant Star Wars/Leverage crossover fic ([here](http://dharmaavocado.tumblr.com/post/169368168242/so-having-only-now-just-finished-the-first-season), [here](http://dharmaavocado.tumblr.com/post/169640009907/norcumi-so-for-reasons-a-friend-and-i-were), and [here](http://dharmaavocado.tumblr.com/post/174355460437/gasp-such-an-excellent-meme-rexobi-unexpected)!), and then THIS happened. 
> 
> Spoilers for The Princess Switch (which you don’t have to know, and if you’re inclined to watch the trailer you’ll basically see all the major scenes inspiring this).

Satine’s phone calls are never a good thing. Obi-Wan almost doesn’t pick up, but it’s Satine. Of course he picks up.

He nearly hangs up when the first thing she says is, “I’m in need of a bit of help.”

Obi-Wan frowns down at the phone. “Bail money kind of help, liberating a small country kind of help, or working a con kind of help?”

“Darling, your priorities are endlessly ridiculous, and if I was liberating a small country it would be a con, now wouldn’t it.”

“It’s a complicated job, isn’t it.”

She huffs an indignant little sigh. “It wasn’t meant to be, but then a small child got involved and you know how nine year olds are.”

“Thankfully, I most certainly do not. What sort of trouble could a nine year old create?”

A lot, as it turns out. Satine has several layers to her current project going: it had started as a simple matter of finding discrediting information on the insurance company with potential for a side scandal (and the bonus of getting to scope out a new museum that was going to hold quite the treasure trove once it got off the ground). Then Satine had managed to insert herself on the museum director’s group, but the director’s daughter was an insightful little thing that enjoyed hiding in small spaces.

(“No, Ahsoka, you cannot adopt her. She is _not_ coming home with us!”

“That would be the _one_ good thing about this mess!”

“Not negotiable, sorry.”

He doesn’t sound sorry in the least, nor is he, really.)

The director’s daughter is also lonely, and spends far too much time with romance novels and movies. Her parents – though often working in very distant countries – are happily married, and thus not a convenient target for romantic ideals.

Satine _somehow_ convinced the child that she was some kind of fairy godmother…type…personage, and that she was here to create a holiday miracle. Now she just needed victims.

(“For the love of–! _Satine_! Couldn’t you find locals and matchmake _them_?”

“I haven’t the _time_ to manipulate that many people, so I need you to do it for me. And if you’re coming in anyways, why not take on the roles in the first place?”)

There is a distinct problem in that Obi-Wan owes Satine, and his crew meanwhile finds it hilarious enough that they are immediately in. Anakin in particular is relishing this fiasco, bless his own romantic empty head, though Padmé isn’t helping. Vos, who’s already working with Satine, just encourages everyone, which is why Obi-Wan picks him as one of the idiots to Fall In Love.

As the local person “with the posh accent and manners,” he’s due to be the other victim, of course.

* * *

“I don’t like how easy this has been,” Rex mutters to his comm while glancing around the airport. It’s been way too smooth a job so far, from creating Cody’s persona of some obscure marquis in an arranged marriage to the local duke, to Rex’s own cover as a rising star in the country’s art scene.

Echo snorts. “If you had any idea what kind of electronic strings I’ve had to manipulate, you would not be calling this easy. Looks like there’s been an accident on the highway, so your rides are going to be late.”

“Rex is just jealous he didn’t get the VIP lounge,” Cody says, dry and amused. Rex doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response.

Then things go to shit, but it’s not how any of them could ever have expected. Cody finds that one of the women in his entourage – locals, all of them – comments about how remarkable a resemblance the Marquis has to some random passenger, and then she begins to expertly try to play upon reasonable insecurities about arranged marriages.

Since Cody’s identity is fake as American cheese, his nervousness is real but for entirely different reasons than she’s got to think. Fives isn’t helping, too busy squawking about how someone stole the bar’s remote and why did they put on the worst version of _The Parent Trap_ , is it a distraction or something else –

“Let it play out,” Rex advises, giving in to pacing. There’s at least two people watching him way too closely. “We’ve been made, but – I think something’s going on.”

Boy, is there ever. Cody plays along with strange lady, who is the one who then scampers out to Rex with the stupidest proposal he’s ever heard. ‘Swap places.’ For just a week.

With his brother, and neither of them are currently people who really exist.

“If this was one of our cons, I’d disown all of you,” Echo grumps, barely audible over Fives’ guffaws. Idiot ducked into a bathroom for the express purpose of cackling at them all.

The unfortunate part is that it’s totally doable. Neither Rex nor Cody have skills that are indispensable for their roles – they just haven’t memorized all the details of each others’ personas.

The worst part, however, is that its way easier to go along with the stupidity than trying to defuse whatever these people are setting up.

* * *

“That is an awful dye job,” Obi-Wan informs the comms as his ‘fiancé’ walks into the manor, awe on what he will admit is a very striking face. Satine sighs melodramatically at him.

“A nine year old has to be able to tell the difference.”

“How bad is her glasses prescription, because–”

Padmé, in her role as head of household, somehow manages to kick Obi-Wan in the ankle without it being noticeable that she’s assaulting the Duke.

* * *

“I thought the Duke was going to be out of the country for the rest of the year!” Rex hisses the instant he’s alone and done a once-over for bugs.

“Well I can’t help it if some rich aristocrat puts one thing on his electronic planner and does something completely different!” Echo snaps back. “I think this some kind of infidelity thing they’re trying to pull on the Duke, or we’re a distraction because he’ll be looking too hard at ‘local artist yokel’ goofing up to realize something big is going down. So…fake being Cody real well!”

* * *

“Why did no one warn me about the scar?” Vos demands, indignant and almost loud enough to make Obi-Wan wince during his fiancé’s surprisingly entertaining – if thoroughly false – anecdote about his home province’s history. The gathered social group – including one museum director and her daughter – laugh enough to cover any of Obi-Wan’s potential gaffes.

“What scar?” Ahsoka asks, and Obi-Wan has to try to make a smirk into a smile at ‘the Marquis.’

Anakin snickers. “The real Marquis has this scar along the left side of his face. Some kind of equestrian accident, which I think means he got kicked by a horse.”

“Probably not,” Padmé says immediately. “That’d crush things, and this is – ”

“This is wildly unfair and I hate you all,” Vos snarls.

“Whoa, what’s your problem?” Anakin sounds almost defensive, and Obi-Wan has a momentary twinge about winding Vos up around his brother. Anakin plays off his scars as dashing and points of pride, but there’s still some lingering self-image problems.

Padmé sounds far too amused when she answers. “Quinlan has a thing for scars. Remember you’re just supposed to be _pretending_ to fall for him.”

“How do you know that?”

“We had a _talk_ at one point.”

Vos snorts. “Yeah, and your girlfriend is scary.”

* * *

Rex walks into the stables, hating every inch of the classic English riding gear he has to wear. He catches one sight of the horse – and the damn things are _always_ huger in real life than TV ever makes them – and he almost just turns right back around.

It doesn’t help that the Duke turns, and the riding gear does _amazing_ things to that man’s already impressive physique, and the admiring double take is almost worth it.

Then the horse stomps a hoof big enough to crush Rex’s head, and he manages a shaky smile. “Who thought it was a good idea to create a persona that rides horses?!”

Echo’s sigh is long suffering. “Cody _does_ ride horses!”

“One week at summer camp when we were _eleven_ doesn’t count!”

“At least you’re not stuck painting _pots_ recreationally!” Cody snaps back. “And if even _one_ of you makes another comment about my museum contact and French girls, I am going to do unpleasant things to you with a paintbrush!”

At least it sounds like Fives is having fun.

* * *

“This man has never ridden a horse in his life,” Obi-Wan sub-vocalizes, watching his fake fiancé mutter something that hopefully fortifies him. Obi-Wan appreciates the courage when the man turns down the easy out, but the common sense seems a bit…lacking.

He then gets the joy of watching a well-muscled idiot basically somersault over the horse, which can sense that this inexperienced rider will be a fun victim.

Nice view, unfortunate circumstances, and Obi-Wan has no idea what to do with the immediate instinct to rush to his side and cradle him, minor scrapes or no.

* * *

Rex glares at the mirror, resenting this clusterfuck more and more. Charity ball his ass. For the good of the museum _and_ the con.

Fuck. Everything.

No one had mentioned tuxes. Worse, no one had mentioned bowties.

He takes another stab at wrestling the damn thing into submission, managing to not strangle himself but not tie the damn tie. He’s distracted enough to just yell “It’s open!” at the knock on the door, realizing a bit too late what he’s done. Then he sees the Duke reflected in the mirror, trying valiantly to hide a grin and looking too damn pretty in his own tux.

Fuck. Everything. With a rusty fork.

Rex flushes and lets go of the bowtie before he actually does strangle himself with it. “I swear I do just fine if it’s on someone else,” he manages, which is even the truth. “Just something about not being able to _see_ it – ”

“I totally understand,” the Duke reassures him, stepping up far too much in Rex’s personal space. “Allow me.”

It’s a good thing he’s already blushing, because there is something way too intimate about his supposed betrothed’s fingers all along his throat like that.

* * *

Obi-Wan did _not_ need to hear the Marquis make some kind of quiet orgasmic noise the moment they walk into the library. He’ll readily admit it’s impressive, if a bit overblown, and the small crowd of rich and powerful locals using it as an area to congregate detracts from the impact of walls of old books.

But he’s already a bit… _flustered_ about their little encounter, and it’s not a polite-company kind of noise, so he starts and gives the Marquis a look.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man mutters, still gawping around. “Just – _look_ at this!”

“It is a bit of a nice collection, yes.”

His fake betrothed gives him a look. “If I’d known this was on just the other side of the manor, I’d have been spending a _lot_ more time here!”

Oh no. He should not be finding that so damn charming.

* * *

Rex _somehow_ manages to tamp down his inner bibliophile, giving people polite smiles and making small talk. It’s kind of fun, kind of… _distracting_ how well the Duke manages the social waters, being a good host and genteel in a way that’s just not really found outside of a certain type of movies Rex will never admit to ever watching. The man has a real knack for people, and watching him interact with the young daughter of the museum’s new director is adorable.

Almost enough to distract from Fives’ bitching while he breaks into the museum.

* * *

Obi-Wan loses track of his fiancé while playing games for the good of their mark, ‘almost’ stumbling over Vos and the real Marquis until Vos ‘trips’ and lands himself and the Marquis in a closet. Given the look of unholy glee on a certain child’s face when that happens, Obi-Wan feels no guilt about how Vos’ comm goes offline shortly thereafter.

Unfortunately, it means he now has an audience, so he goes to seek out the pretender. The staff directs him to a pretty little gazebo just outside the library – fresh snow coats it like a postcard image, and all the fairy lights framing the upper half give the illusion of privacy and the air of a fantasy. The way his fake betrothed goes from distracted to _watching_ him is unreal, and Obi-Wan almost forgets that he has an audience to entertain. He flounders for words, taking almost too long to declare, “They’ll want us inside soon for the first dance.”

The fake Marquis makes a face. “I do love being the center of attention.”

He can’t stop a smile. “No fear, just follow my lead. Unless you’d prefer to lead?”

That earns him a long, evaluating look, then delightfully broad shoulders square and he stands with a confidence that is also a challenge. The Marquis holds up his hands and arches his brows. “You lead tonight.”

It is a trial to not respond inappropriately, because Obi-Wan’s fake identity would not be so crass. Instead he steps forward into the challenge, taking the Marquis’  light grip and starting to move to the faint music wafting from the library.

* * *

They ‘swap back’ at the end of a week, right before the museum’s grand opening that they would have had to miss even before the con took such a bizarre turn. They’ve replaced stolen artifacts with reasonable fakes that won’t survive the next insurance investigation, so all that’s left is disappearing.

Cody pretends he doesn’t advise his museum liaison to find a new job soon. Rex pretends everything is fine and he’s not having feelings over that last quiet evening spent in a warm library, curled up on a loveseat almost too small for two, just talking about books.

* * *

Obi-Wan is puzzled at first when Satine tells them to ignore certain oddities as the final con goes down, but then she does that _thing_ introducing fake artifacts that the museum probably shouldn’t have had in the first place. He has no idea how she did that, and her approach to it was a bit more scattered than he’d like but they were rather busy not getting caught at the time.

It’s only later that pieces fall into place.

Satine had no idea those pieces were fake until they were revealed. She hadn’t even been told they existed, and that was the fault of the unscrupulous museum patron they were trying to hoodwink in the first place.

Yet the Marquis disappeared just beforehand, with no warning. Given how Obi-Wan had not been looking forward to basically doing the same thing, he is both relieved and confused.

The local artist that was to be showcased in a small wing disappeared at the same time, which pissed Vos off to no end.

But when Anakin can find no trace of either man – including no evidence whatsoever that the Duke had ever had an arranged marriage –

Well. One just has to laugh, because it was a con masterfully done. He just wishes he knew _how_ it had been done.

* * *

_**One year later** _

It’s a small estate auction, not really containing anything of huge value, but there is a nice collection of rare antique books that Rex has kept an eye on.

Of course traffic is bad, and of course he shows up after all the books are sold. Rex sits in the back of the room for a bit, then slips out. He walks through empty halls, then a figure steps out of an alcove and blocks the door. They’re backlit so he can’t see who, then a voice rich in subdued laughter calls out, “My Lord.”

Oh. Oh, he should not recognize that voice, nor should it still do things to him. Still, there was some _strange_ fallout they followed from a distance to that one job, and – fuck it. “Your Grace,” he responds, and the figure moves so as to be visible. It is indeed the man he thinks of as a Duke, but dressed too casually and looking all the hotter for it. The man gives him a look, moving closer with that lovely little crooked grin. “Obi-Wan,” he finally says. “I’m afraid the real Duke was taking in some Alpine skiing when we met.”

Oh. _Oh_. Suddenly, some things make far too much sense, and Rex blushes. “You did notice some gaffes, then.” He’d wondered how some things had slipped past the Duke so easily.

The grin widens, but it isn’t cruel. “Some only because I was expecting them. So what do I call you?”

He only hesitates a moment, then holds out a hand. “Rex.”

He’s expecting them to shake, not for Obi-Wan to _look_ at him the same way the Duke had when greeting his unexpected fiancé: taking the hand and bowing over it, maintaining eye contact while placing a kiss upon the knuckles like they were in some Jane Auston remake.

For god’s sake, the man should not have that kind of effect on Rex. He clears his throat, aware of how his ears are burning. “So what brings you here?”

* * *

Obi-Wan can only hope he hasn’t gone too far as he hefts his legally acquired loot. “A… _friend_ recommended some books to me once, and I thought it was about time I tried them.” There is no need whatsoever to admit he might have spent more time than is seemly lurking around potential meeting places, hitting up auctions that he ordinarily would have avoided.

From the way Rex’s face lights up, he’ll probably be teased about it in the future, but right now there’s too much delight in the expression. “ _You_ bought them?”

He pretends a casual shrug. “No one else seemed interested, so why not?”

Rex’s expression is endearingly shy, particularly for someone that he suspects might be as experienced a grifter as Obi-Wan is. “I don’t suppose you’d want to discuss them over coffee?”

“I’d love to, though I should warn you that I’ve an acquaintance that would dearly love to get contact information for your coincidental look-alike.”

Rex also has a brilliant grin, and he’s missed that. “I have plenty of blackmail material about a certain brother if you want.”

He can’t seem to stop smiling. “It is a date, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Despite my blog's deletion, I am still spitefully lurking around tumblr though now at a new location [here](https://norcumii.tumblr.com/). I'm also on [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/Norcumi) and [dreamwidth](https://norcumi.dreamwidth.org/) (though I apologize for the latter; most of that is my ancient livejournal that got ported over).


End file.
